WHAT may be the value to nature, collectively, of the changes in natural form, which man has affected or rendered permanent by the arts he employs in the cultivation of plants and animals, it is impossible at the present time for any one, however observant, to estimate. But of the magnitude of such changes, and of the immense area over which they have spread, students of plant history and form may gain some idea, even though they must necessarily fail to grasp the full measure of the matter. Paeonia officinalis is a plant of some importance for its splendour and hardiness; but at this moment, looking at the future before us, and calling to mind the many splendid paeonies we possess, we are tempted to indulge the thought that the relation of man's mind to the outward forms of nature is a matter of more profound importance than any merely sentimental view of the subject would suggest. The grand old gardeners valued the paeony, and it is truthfully observed in the Botanical Magazine of 1816 (t. 1784) that "in Parkinson's time it must have been more common than now, as he observes that the double sort sometimes produces ripe seeds, which, being sown, bring forth some single and some double flowers." It is most unusual in the present day for double paeonies to produce seeds, and we may reasonably believe that the plant has altered considerably in constitution in the course of the past two hundred and fifty years. A very large proportion of all our garden plants have altered in like manner. Within the knowledge of many of the present generation the double pelargonium has been, as it were, created. Quite recently a double bouvardia has been secured. Most of the cultivated flowers change in some way or other, and the change is always in the same direction, for it tends to throw upon man the burden of maintaining the race. It may be supposed, for the sake of illustrating the curious case that is thus brought before us, that the plants reason in this way: "When we were in the wilds unnoticed we had to take care of ourselves, and we ripened, and scattered abundance of seeds. But now we are too well cared for to be under the necessity of adopting measures for our perpetuation, for this master of the world called man will look to it. Let us flaunt more banners and lead a gay life, for the sowing of seed is taken out of our hands." Such reasoning represents the hypothetical case; it is quite according to Nature's method. A man finds a plant that pleases him, and multiplies it by cutting it up. Thereupon the plant begins to change its habits, and, in the course of a few generations, it ceases to produce seed. A very different order of argument is possible, however, and will occur to the reader. The variations that obtain so much attention are, let us say, strictly according to the course of nature, but when they fail to obtain the notice of man they pass away, or a quite small proportion survive, and become established. But man exerts his skill to keep them, and thus it is that plants with double flowers and variegated leaves abound in gardens. From this point of view we have an illustration of the origin of varieties by selection, and it is suggested to us that were man obliterated, a very considerable proportion of the varieties he has cherished would pass away, leaving no permanent mark whatever on the species they represent.

The splendour of the paeonies is well known, but we do not often see collections in gardens. The brief duration of their flowers perhaps accounts for this; but while they last they are so beautiful that the amateur desirous of doing full justice to the finest of our hardy garden flowers would find them worthy of special attention. The plant before us will grow anywhere, in sun or shade, and in any kind of soil. We have had it scattered amongst the rough herbage on the banks of the stream with daffodils and other flowers of bold growth, and the crimson flowers presented a glorious appearance in the month of June.

But a good collection could not be grown in this rough way. It would be necessary to provide for them a bed of sufficient length, and four and a half feet wide, this width being convenient for the necessary work of weeding and tying-up, the flowers needing a little support to insure their safety during a gale of wind. The soil should be a deep, rich loam, and the plants should remain undisturbed for several years to form strong stools, and display their various and attractive flowers. There are at least thirty species and varieties available for such a plantation, which in the height of summer would be a magnificent feature of a hardy garden.